


How the light fades

by VisualSnow



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Brainwashing, DONT WORRY I POST TW IN EVERY CHAPTER, Deceit comes in later, Depictions of death and injury, Fantasy AU, I don’t know shit about boats and you can tell, Kinda, M/M, Magic is Real, Manipulation, Roman centric but others get the spotlight too!!, Violence, bad title by me, enemys to friends to lovers, patton has a cat, roman is a ship captain, slowburn, tags to be added later, the gang goes on a world saving adventure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-05 13:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14619792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisualSnow/pseuds/VisualSnow
Summary: (Updates on wednesdays)Roman is a successful captain, conquering the waves with his crew aboard the gilded lion. But when a simple mission turns sour, and he clashes with a powerful stranger, he discovers a dark plot that could destroy everything in its path. Will he and his friends be able to stop it before all is lost? Or will the world be destroyed before his very eyes?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and thank you for stopping by! Feel free to scream at me in the comments or at my-darkstrangeson on tumblr! And sorry for typos and stuff, I have no beta lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets a mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if the characters seem OOC that’s because I’ve never written them. I’m still getting the hang out their personalities, so it’ll be a rocky start :P

Roman loved the sea. 

 

It’s where he was born, after all, three months into a grueling journey overseas in a less-than-standard ship his mother had only boarded for him. She’d told him about it, late at night when the candles grew dim and the crackling of the fire was the only sound in their little home. 

 

There was a war in their home country, one that had started years ago and saw no sign of ending. Two kingdoms, no peace. Neither king wanted to yield, too prideful to make peace but too low on soldiers to win the war. There were slaughters in every city, and blood flowing in every street. Not even the nobles were spared; Roman had heard the horror stories told grimly over mugs of ale. Woman hung in the streets, children ripped from their mothers arms, families locked in burning houses.

 

The war had claimed his father. He’d been called off, sent him into a battle he wouldn’t return from. So his mother muster every ounce of bravery in her, promised herself the war would never take something from her again, and stepped aboard the rickety vessel that would deliver her and her child to salvation. 

 

And she found it, nearly a year later. It had been a hard year, with threats of storms and pillagers always looming overhead. But she’d stepped into land triumphant, with Roman on her hip and a new life ahead of her. They’d settled into a cozy little house that was seated just on the boundary between the forest and the beach, and his mother had worked as a seamstress, making decent money. Enough to clothe them, keep them fed, and make sure they stayed in their quiet little house by the sea. Roman had spent his younger days collecting seashells and smooth, worn shards of glass, fishing off the beach and scrambling through tide pools, pretending to battle pirates and sea serpents.

 

Now it was years later, and his mother, bless her heart, was gone and passed, leaving Roman alone to build a life for himself.

 

_ And so I did.  _ Roman thought to himself, eyeing the horizon through his looking glass. The boards of the crows nest creaked under his feet with each turn of the waves, a gentle rhythm that seemed to lull into a sense of comfort. This ship was his; he’d work his way up from a deckhand to a captain employed by the crown, trusted with important cargo and information. The  _ gilded lion  _ was a beauty, large enough to fit a sizable crew and then some, with well made masts and a good length. It had taken a while, but he’d made it.

 

“Roman!” A voice called from below, snapping Roman out of his thoughts. He turned to see a tiny figure below, one hand cupped around their mouth in an attempt to be heard over the winds that lashed at the sails and the other waving frantically. Roman waved back, slipping his spyeglass back into its pouch at his hip. Swinging himself over the edge and grabbing a rope, Roman slid towards the deck below, laughing all the way. 

Finally reaching the deck, Roman carded his fingers through his bangs, fixing what the wind had tried to hard to undo. 

 

“Roman, you know sliding down the ropes like that’s is bad for your hands!” Patton chided, though with a smile on his face. The cat that was always perched on his shoulder meowed, as if it too was chiding him. 

 

“That’s  _ captain  _ Roman to you,” Roman shot back, grinning like a fool, reaching out a hand to scratch the cat under its chin. Patton knew he was kidding. The two had grown too close too bother with silly things like titles and such. “Anyways, Patton, what is it that you needed?” 

 

The breezy smile on his face seemed to melt into an uncharacteristically grim expression, lips pressed together and eyebrows furrowed. 

 

“Logan says a message came from mainland through the scire stone. He needs you in your cabin. He seems a little… stressed about it,”

 

Roman nodded, striding towards the door to his cabin. “Thanks, Patton!” He called over his shoulder, before setting himself to the task at hand. 

 

Pushing in the door to his cabin, Roman couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead. It wasn’t in his nature to worry; there were too many things to think about that were certain. He couldn't waste time on what-ifs. Not with a crew depending on him. But the scire stone was only used for essential information, things that were utmost importance.

 

As he stepped into the cabin, he saw Logan, stooping over the large map centered on the table that took up most of the room. A large cluster of crystals sat in the corner, inlaid in an elegantly carved wooden stand. This was the scire stone, an enchanted and very valuable crystal. With this, a man could communicate with land despite being leagues away. Roman was lucky to secure one for their ship, though it had taken more than a few favors.

 

Logan didn't seem to notice him at first, and Roman could see how… put-off he seemed. The glasses that were always perched neatly on the bridge of his nose were askew, and a hand was buried in his hair, eyes focused in concentration. Roman coughed, letting his presence be known.

 

“There you are.” Logan said, standing up straighter and fixing his glasses. “I assume Patton told you about the message.” 

 

Roman nodded. “Yes. Who have we been contacted by? And for what cause?” He questioned, walking closer to Logan and the map.

 

“It was the admiral of the royal armada.”

 

Roman balked with surprise. “Are you… are you certain?” He asked.

 

“Yes, Roman, you know I would not joke about a matter such as this.” 

 

“Well, I’m flattered!” Roman said with a smile. “but I’m going to assume this wasn’t a call for pleasure.” 

 

Logan nodded. “It seems Xetraxian ship was spotted off the coast not far from here. We’ve been tasked with investigating why it’s strayed so far from the waters of its own country. It seems we are the closest Algeranian vessel.”

 

“Interesting,” Roman hummed, “but something’s seems to be troubling you.” 

 

“Yes.” Logan sighed. “This just seems far too simple. One lone ship? It doesn't make any sense from a logical standpoint. I feel something else is at play here. Why else would a lone ship sail into enemy waters? This just seems like a trap to me.

 

Roman laughed. “A trap? Logan, even if that were the case our ship could handle whatever flimsy threat those scallywags could throw at us! and anyways, since when has Xetrax used tactics like that?”

 

Logan nodded, but he still seemed unsure. 

 

“I just feel like we would be able to handle this easier if we called for assistance, perhaps wait until we can gather more information-“

 

Roman cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Logan, you know I value your input, yes?” He didn't wait for answer before continuing “but I’m sure this is nothing like that. We can handle it! We’ve just got to take the chance. And if something is amiss, well, you can tell me you were right. Deal?” 

 

Logan shook his head. “Roman, as captain of this ship you must think this through more. Yes, it could just be a single ship that  _ happened  _ to be from Xetrax. But I wouldn't propose to you an idea that was far fetched. It would be in our best interest to play it safe. any mistake will reflect back on you, and I doubt you want that” 

 

Roman grit his teeth. “Logan, you may be first mate, but I am the one running things around here, understand? Now, we’re setting sail for the last location the Xetraxian ship was seen.” He turned his back on Logan, and strode purposefully towards the door, grabbing his scabbard on the way. “Prepare the cannons, and make sure the crew is ready.” Roman paused, turning around with a smirk. “And Logan?” 

 

He heard a begrudging “Yes?” From behind him.

 

“Please, stop doubting me. I’m not the one that bought my way onto a ship.”

 

And with that he shut the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( next chapter: Roman’s plan dissolves, and he finds himself facing the consequences)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman’s plan dissolves, and he finds himself facing the consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s chapter two! I hope you enjoy, and even if you don’t I’d love to hear your thoughts!
> 
> Tw: fighting, blood, injury. There’s descriptions of stab wounds and dead bodies.

Sailing was smooth, the ship cutting through the waves like a knife through butter, making good speed. Within a few hours they’d reached the ships last sighting. Lo and behold, it still sat there, anchored just a few leagues from the distant shore. 

 

This would be easy. Get in, question the foolish captain that had dared sail into unwelcome waters, get out. Maybe rough up the crew a bit, show them some real algeranian might. It would be as easy as tying a bowline knot.

 

“Pull up close, but be aware,” Roman called out. “I don't see much firepower, but they might want to get a little feisty.”

 

Beside him, Patton stood patiently, his cat weaving in between his legs. Roman had nearly objected to the little animal, but once he knew it kept the rats away he was on board. Plus, he didn't have it in him to tell Patton to get rid of it. 

 

“Sense anything yet?” He asked, not bothering to turn his head. 

 

Patton shook his head, fiddling with the sash tied around his shoulders. 

 

“Nothing harmful. There’s life, but I can't even feel any magic. Not even a healer.”

 

Roman scoffed. What kind of idiot didn't bring along a healer? Sure, the more talented magic users were pricey, but even an old hag with an affinity for the simpler arts was better than nothing. 

 

“Roman, are you sure about this?” Patton asked. Roman shot him a look out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, it’s just suspicious, Y’know? Not even a  _ healer _ ?”

 

Roman rolled his eyes. “What  _ is  _ it with you all and doubting me today?” 

 

“Yeah, your right!” Patton said, cheery as ever. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

 

The ship pulled up alongside the other boat, and as they neared an odd feeling began to creep on Roman. The hairs on the back of his neck began to stand, and Patton’s cat screeched as it jumped into his shoulder.

 

There was something wrong, something Roman just couldn't find. it tickled the back of his mind, ghosting it’s fingers down his neck. 

 

He and Patton turned in unison, the same look on their face. Patton’s eyes began to glow the same powder blue as the markings that ran up and down his arms. The dull light reflected in his glasses, sending a prism dancing across his face. 

 

Something was wrong. 

 

And then their ship rocked with the force of a cannonball tearing into its side. Roman was nearly knocked off his feet by the force, grabbing a railing to keep himself steady. He turned towards the stairs leading to the main deck and prepared to dash towards them.

 

At least, he would, if a thick, black fog didn't envelope the ship within seconds. Roman could hardly see his own hands stretched in front of him, reaching for a familiar railing. He could navigate his ship with his eyes closed, but the sudden appearance threw him off guard. He just about to run to the deck below, when a hand caught the hem of his coat. 

 

He turned, and saw Patton’s eyes shining dimly, too dimly, in the fog.

 

“Roman,” he gasped, heavy breathes straining his lungs, “Roman, I don't feel too good.” 

 

Than he passed out, hitting the deck with a heavy thump Roman knew would leave bruises. 

 

Another explosion rocked the ship— this time, from the port side. Roman cursed under his breath, gathered the limp body of Patton in his arms, and went as quickly as he could down the stairs towards his cabin. At least his chest was moving, slowly and worryingly faint— but moving nonetheless.

 

He could hear the voices of his men all around him, and unfamiliar voices too. The cold  _ shing!  _ Of steel echoed through the fog around him, screams of pain that he hoped were caused by his crew, and not drawn from them. 

 

He opened the door to his cabin, depositing Patton unceremoniously on the floor before shutting the door and rushing into the fray, pulling his sword from his belt. 

 

What he could see of the main deck was a bloody battlefield, bodies strewn about with swords still in their chests. His heart ached at the sight of one particular body: a boy named Caleb he’d hired just a few months ago.

 

He was young, still stuck in the awkward phase between man and boy. He’d come to Roman in search of a job, and with magic as strong and fiery as his personality Roman couldn't help but give him a chance. Any man willing to make his own in this world was good in Romans book. Eager and willing to work, he always met the day with a smile on his face.

 

Now, his throat was cut clean, blood spilling onto the scarf he always wore. 

 

_ “From my mum!”  _ He’d said when they first met, chipper and fresh, not yet exposed to the harsh seas  _ “she told me it’d keep me safe. I told her I’d keep myself safe.”  _ He’d passed a flame from one hand to the other, laughing as smoke made a halo around his head. Roman had clapped him on the back and paid him his first wages, telling him he had promise. Now he didn't even have air in his lungs. 

 

But Roman couldn’to think of that now. Roman still had men that were alive, men that needed his leadership. 

 

A man lunged from the fog at him, dagger aimed at his chest. Roman parried easily, almost laughing at the man's poor skills. If he had to face down enemy soldiers, he was at least glad they were shoddy ones. His sword found the mans chest, and left it just as easily, leaving a bloody hole where his heart was.

 

Someone pressed themselves against his back, and Roman startled for a moment before recognizing the rich blue of Logan’s coat.

 

“I told you this would happen.” He muttered, kicking a foe backward and into the mist. “But did you listen? No.” He ducks just in time for a sword to swing over his head, but Roman skewered his own blade into the shoulder of its wielder. 

 

“Save it for later, specs.” Roman retorted, swinging in a wide arc, almost hitting a man who jumped back just in time. “I’ll buy you a consolation drink.” 

 

“I’m holding you to that,” Logan retorted, slashing a deep red line into the face of an attacker.

 

Roman started to form a sarcastic remark on his tongue, but nothing came. There was a change in the atmosphere, something that spread slow and thick like ink. It felt like ice in his veins, slowly freezing him in place like a statue. 

 

Roman struggled against the feeling, but his heart was racing and his mind was foggy. What was this?

 

“ **Well, well, well** ,” a deep voice spoke, an unnatural echo that felt like the scrape of a beetles legs against Roman’s ear. “ **What have we got here?** ”

 

There was no source, at least not an obvious one. The voice seemed to simply… be. It filled the air, rattling the sound waves with it's unnatural timber. 

 

“S-show yourself!” Roman called. He was ashamed with the obvious tremor in his voice. This was so unlike him! He was the captain, the unwavering axis of the crew. He did not stutter. He refused to. But somehow, he was shaking in his boots. 

 

“ **Not what I expected, really** .” The voice came again. “ **Certainly not what I was hoping for. What a disappointment** .”

 

_ He means you. _ A voice whispered at the back of his mind.  _ Idiot. Shameful, worthless wretch of a captain.  _

 

Roman shook his head angrily. “Come out here and fight me like a man!” He yelled into the fog. 

 

**“Okay,”** a voice whispered in his ear. “ **Here I am”**

 

Roman swing his sword toward the sound, very narrowly missing Logan. Roman growled in frustration as it sliced through nothing but air. 

 

“ **Missed me.”** The voice taunted, now on his right side. Roman swing again, and came back with the same fruitless results. 

 

_ Can't even hit something as simple as this.  _ Whispered the little vice again.  _ Idiot. You’d be a better meal for the sharks.  _

 

“Lies!” Roman roared. “I don't know what your doing, but I will not fall for this!” 

 

A figure emerged from the shadows, suddenly and unexpectedly. One minute there was nothing, and the next, a man. Dark hair was swept over equally dark eyes, ringed with shadows that were too unnatural to be the absence of light. A ashen cloak was swept over one shoulder, revealing a worn grey vest and equally worn shirt.

 

“ **I’m getting tired of this, and you weren't supposed to be my mark,”** the figure spoke, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “ **I hope you don't mind that I need to kill you now. Just makes it easier on me.”**

 

And than the sword shot out. Roman winced, preparing for the sting of metal digging in his flesh. Instead, the sword missed him completely. 

 

And hit Logan instead. 

 

Roman’s eyes widened as Logan froze, the sword Impaling him sliding out with a sickening wet sound. He coughed, just once, and fell to his knees, blood bubbling from his lips. He managed a weak breathe before he slumped to the deck. 

 

“No, no, no,” Roman cried, dropping his sword and grabbing Logan, flipping him to his back. “Not like this, Logan. You still need to gloat, remember, you were right and-“ his breath caught in his throat.  _ Stupid, worthless captain. “ _ And I still owe you that drink.” 

 

A dark chuckle cane from behind him. Roman turned, feeling the fire in his chest ignite in anger. 

 

**“Sorry, captain.”** He said, and Roman felt a hand ghost on his neck, stopping to grip his hair with a painful tug. “ **But I doubt you’ll be seeing land any time soon.”**

 

Roman screamed, and his vision turned white. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3
> 
> ( next chapter: Roman gets a strange message, and learns the fate of his crew)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets a strange message, and learns the fate of his crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Descriptions of violence and injury, weird dreams/hallucinations

Roman opened his eyes, and he was on deck. Everything was the same: the worn wooden floor, the aged ropes neatly coiled and piled against the wall, the crimson painted door to his cabin. But as Roman looked around, he realized that while he was on his ship, his ship was not on water. Where there would normally be rolling waves and whitecaps, a fine white mist floated gently. Dusky bits of light filtered through, casting an amber glow over the entire scene.

 

“Where… where am I?” Roman whispered, not expecting an answer. 

 

Someone behind him chuckled. Roman whirled around, reaching for the blade that usually hung on his hip, but his hand came up empty. But when Roman saw who was behind him, he was glad he had not lashed out. 

 

A woman stood near the edge of his ship, hands resting daintily against the railing. Her white hair seemed to flow like kelp in water, making a halo of light around her head. Her skin was a sunset gradient, the deep blues and purples of her exposed legs fading into the soft yellows and pinks that wrapped around her arms. 

 

“oh, pardon me,” he apologized, slightly shocked at the woman’s ethereal appearance. “I hadn’t seen you there.”

 

The woman chuckled again, turning to meet him. She almost seemed to drift when she moved, like a gauzy veil caught in a breeze. Her eyes were wide, like a doe’s and the same milky white as the dress that was draped around her.

 

“It’s quite alright, my dear.” she spoke. Her voice was so familiar, but Roman couldn't place where he had heard it before. “How are you?” 

 

Roman blinked in confusion. “I am… well. I’m sorry, I don't want to be rude, but— where in the world am I?” 

 

The woman ignored him, or at least she didn't seem to hear him. “I’m glad. It’s been so long, my darling, since I have been able to see one of my own blood.” 

 

Her own blood? This was just getting weird, and Roman wanted no part of it. “I’m afraid I don't know what your taking about, miss.” 

 

The woman frowned, her once tranquil features heavy with sadness. “I know.” She sighed, and the hair that flowed around her seemed to droop along with her gaze. “You never has the chance to learn. So few even remember my name, let alone what I’ve done. You won't even remember me when you wake up. He’ll make sure of it.” She took Roman’s face in her hands, smiling sadly as she rubbing a thumb along his cheek tenderly. “Roman, you must defeat him. He won't stop until the world is dust under his feet. They’ll be hesitant at first, but I believe in you, all of you.” 

 

The amber glow that surrounded him seems to flicker, replacing itself with a sickening purple. The woman pulled away, looking around in a panic. As the light shifted, Roman could see the scene around him change. 

 

The once clean deck was now spattered with blood, and the floor was caved in and rotting in a few areas. Bodies hung from the mast, swaying with a nonexistent wind. With sick horror, he recognized some of the bodies. His friends, his crew, even his mother joined the gruesome congregation. The scene flicked into view a few times, gone and there again in the blink of an eye. The woman turned back to him, gripping his face desperately.

 

“Roman, he’s found you. You need to go, before it’s too late. Remember-“ She pressed her head to his, and Roman felt teardrops drip onto his nose. “Remember I love you, Roman,” 

 

And then he woke up, chest heaving, covered in sweat. He’d jerked up to a sitting position, throwing off the sheets in his panic. 

 

“Woah, you alright there, kiddo?”

 

He turned, eyes still blurry from sleep, to see Patton sitting beside the bed he currently occupied. 

 

Roman looked around blearily. He definitely wasn't on his ship any more. The stone walls were unfamiliar, and he could see out the window that he was in a city of some sort. 

 

“Patton, what…” his head pounded in a steady rhythm, like the ticking of a metronome. Why wasn’t he on  _ the gilded lion?  _ His mind felt foggy, like it was stuffed with cotton. 

 

“Lay back down, Roman, your still not fully healed.” Patton said, firmly pushing his chest, trying to get him to lay back onto the bed. However, Roman resisted him easily.

 

“I’m  _ fine  _ Patton, just a headache is all,” he grumble. Patton looked unconvinced, but didn't argue. Instead, he let out a powerful sneeze. 

 

“Oops!” He said cheerily, “I guess I forgot to recast. Oh well, too late now.” 

 

That’s when Roman noticed the cat still curled at the foot of his bed. He recognized the soft grey lump as Patton’s cat, and reached out an arm to scratch it behind the ear. 

 

“What do you mean, too late?” Roman asked.

 

“Oh, I’m a little depleted after healing everyone. I’ll just have to meditate for a while, and I’ll be fine. Until then, I’ll just be a little sneezy.” Patton answered. 

 

Roman frowned. “Your magic reserves are completely empty? but why—” All at once he remembered the attack, the Xetraxian ship, Patton passing out and Logan...

 

“How long was I out?” He asked, trying to keep the urgency from his voice.

 

“Three days.” Patton answered. “Logan and I have been-“ 

 

He’s cut off as the door opens, and they both turn to see Logan standing in the doorway. Roman tried not to let the surprise show on his face. Logan was alive? And seemed to be doing well for someone who had a sword sticking out of him a few days before.

 

“Oh, good,” he says, surveying the room. “You've awoken.” 

 

“Logan!” Patton exclaimed. “Great, now we’re all here!” 

 

“Hello, Patton,” Logan said, pulling out a chair and taking a seat. “Roman, It's good to see you’re up. We were all quite worried for you.”

 

“Thank you, Logan. Now, fill me in on what I missed.” 

 

“The  _ gilded lion  _ suffered Minor damages, considering the hits taken. It should be ready to sail before the weeks end. Right now we are docked in port Delroe, twenty miles from the nearest large city.” 

 

“And what of the crew?” Roman asked impatiently. “How many did we lose?” 

 

Logan pushed his glasses further onto his face. “None.”

 

“None?” Roman echoed.  He could very clearly remember the fight not being tipped in their favor. Hell, Logan shouldn't even be alive after the hit he took. 

 

“We suffered no casualties. There were a few injuries, but Patton took care of them quite easily.” Logan answered. 

 

“Yup!” Patton added, “I got everyone  _ ship-shape  _ again!” 

 

“Well, that’s good news,” Roman said, ignoring the pun he would have normally groaned at. “Did we capture any of our foes?”

 

“Yes,” Logan answered. “We are currently holding him in the nearby jailhouse. It seems he was the leader of the attack” 

 

The leader. The dark figure that had boarded Roman’s boat and nearly killed his crew. The one who’d almost killed him.

 

Roman stood up, and began to pull on the cost and sash that had been hung carefully on a hook on the wall. 

 

“Wait, where are you going?” Patton asked. 

 

“I’m going to interrogate that scoundrel,” he said, pulling open the door and striding through the hallway. 

 

“Wait, Roman!” Patton started, standing from his chair and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I— I’ve felt that type of magic before. The kind used in the attack.” He had a far away look in his eyes, like he was remembering something unpleasant. “I don't know much about it, but it’s nothing good. Just… be careful, okay kiddo?” 

 

Roman looked at Patton with concern. Usually, Patton never took a tone as serious as this, even when a situation seemed bleak. He always met the day with a smile. Of course, he expressed his concern, but it was never out of fear. So for Patton to seem so worried, no,  _ scared…  _ Roman would have to trust him on this. 

 

“Alright, Patton.” Roman said, nodding. “I’ll be cautious. And Logan,” he paused, turning his words over in his head. “I’m glad to see you’re okay. I know we have our differences, and we may butt heads every now and then, but you are available part of my crew. And you were right, I will admit. But only this once!” His playful demeanor slid back into place, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Next time we’re in a tussle like that your sword skills will have to improve. Well, your sword skills will have to exist.” 

 

Logan rolled his eyes. “I’ll brush up on my fencing. Now, shouldn't you be harassing a prisoner instead of me?”

 

He was right, of course. In fact, Roman was pretty excited to come face to face with this menace. Whoever he was, he was powerful. Powerful people were important. Important people had information. 

 

And it was time for Roman to get some answers.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was enjoyable! I know it wasn’t very exciting, but next chapter we’ll be meeting a certain someone ;) let me know what you think in the comments! And thank you to the peeps that commented on the past chapters! (P.s: do you prefer longer or shorter chapters? I’m trying to decide whether to combine some chapters or not)
> 
> (Next chapter: Roman meets the man that tried to kill him
> 
> Virgil finds himself having a very bad time.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman meets the man that tried to kill him
> 
> Virgil finds himself having a very bad time.
> 
> (This isn’t betad so pls excuse my mistakes, I’ll fix em later.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mentions of torture/interrogation, but nothing actually happens

Virgil was having a very, very bad day. 

 

First it started with this mission.  _ He  _ had told Virgil that it would be simple, easy; just lure the admiral of the royal armada into the trap, get on the boat, and kill him. Easy. Simple. Or else it would have been if he hadn't gotten some random captain and his crew instead of the warships they were expecting. So the plan was botched, whatever, Virgil could deal with this. It would be a breeze, just get in and get out and go home and somehow explain his miserable failure. So he set off a Pulse, boarded the ship, and got ready to do what he did best: leave no witnesses. 

 

But than that  _ seemingly normal  _ captain had to had to go and do…  _ whatever  _ that was. Virgil still had no idea, but there had been a bright light and the air in his lungs had just disappeared, and than he’d woken up in this stupid tiny jail cell. To make matters worse, the magic that usually writhed under his skin, itching to be used, was practically gone. He knew the cuffs they put in him were made to keep magic at bay, but he’d trained against something similar but far, far more powerful. He should be able to flex his pinkie and be out of here. But that wasn't happening, which meant that something was very wrong. 

 

Panic was starting to creep through Virgil’s brain, but he pushed it back as well as he could. This wasn't the time to start trembling like a kitten. If he could get free of these cuffs, than he’d be able to pick the cell doors lock. His eyes searched the stone floor, looking for a durable lock pic. All he needed was a sliver of metal, even a thin bit of rock would do, and- 

 

Virgil froze, heart pounding. A feeling rolled over him like a crashing wave, new and familiar all at once. The smallest bit of power returned to him, and he could feel more on it's way. It calmed his nerves in a way, the hum of magic he had grown accustomed to. It wasn't strong enough to break the cuffs, not yet, but Virgil could tell it would be soon enough. 

 

But with that familiar surge of power came the click clack of footsteps down the hall, coming towards his cell. 

 

Well, looks like they finally decided to come and question him. Virgil’s heart rate elevated as he recalled the horror stories he’d been told about what they did to prisoners in Algeran. They did anything to get answers; starvation, torture, both physical and emotional. People rarely came back when they were captured by Algeran, and the ones that did never talked, either because they had seen too much or they no longer had tongues. 

 

Shuffling towards the farthest wall, Virgil put on a face that he hoped said  _ “careful, I bite”  _ and prepared himself to face his visitor. The footsteps slowed, and a man stood before him. Virgil looked him up and down with an intimidating glare.

 

He was tall, with dark, chestnut brown hair and a face that, Virgil could admit, was nice to look at. His clothes were fairly nice, besides the garish red sash that hung off his shoulder. Whether it was a uniform or just a bad fashion choice, it looked like a child dressing up as a knight. The man carried himself with an air of importance, and agitation creased his face. He was surprisingly young, too, not the typical age of a captain. He opened his mouth to speak, but Virgil was quicker. 

 

“So, are you the lackey they sent to rough me up before they sent out the big guns?” He asked, as casual as possible. “I was hoping they’d send in someone who looked, well, more intimidating. What are you, some unfortunate deckhand?” 

 

One eye twitched with irritation. Good, he was starting to get in his head. But the man took a deep breath and steadied himself. 

 

“I am captain Roman Umbran, of The Algeranian navy. You attacked my ship, and I would like to know why.”

 

“Captain?” Virgil asked, faux interest dripping from his voice. “Well, what a surprise!” It wasn't, actually, Virgil recognized the man from the ship he’d attacked. That and the patches sewn onto the sleeves of his jacket that denoted his rank. “I guess I’m important enough to be graced by your presence.” 

 

“You could put it that way.” The captain, Roman, grumbled. “Your Xetraxian ship was in hostile waters. When we investigated, you attacked and nearly killed my men. Now, I would like to know why and  _ how _ you did.”

 

What, did this guy think he was just going to slip his plan, just like that? Oh yeah, we were here to kill your admiral, but got you instead! Wait, what do you mean that’s a punishable offense, and that your going to execute me now? This guy must think he was an idiot. 

 

Virgil sighed, pulling himself to his feet, which was awkward with his hands cuffed in front of him. The magic that had begun to flow into him was nearly strong enough to break the cuffs now, and if he could stall for just a few minutes than he’d be out of here quicker than this idiot could blink. 

 

“Well, you see,  _ captain, _ ” Virgil began, “my crew and I were just sailing for pleasure. We must have wandered into the wrong bay, and when your ship got closer we panicked.” 

 

The captains face darkened. “I will no longer tolerate your lies. You will tell me what you know  _ or else.” _

 

_ Uh-oh _ Virgil thought. He wanted this captain off his game and frustrated, but not angry. He hoped to leave here with most of his fingers. He tried to summon enough magic to break the cuffs, but it  _ just wasn’t enough.  _ If he could stall for a little longer… 

 

“Alright, you caught me.” Virgil deadpanned, though with a smile on his face. “I wasn't out sailing the seas for pleasure.”

 

One of the captains eyebrow quirked, and intrigue caused him to lean forwards. “Than what was your purpose?” 

 

“I don't know if I can tell you,” Virgil said, pretending to look pensive. “You’ll have to promise me something.” 

 

“And what is that?” The captain asked. Behind his back, Virgil flexed his fingers, and smiled as the familiar energy hummed within, finally having built up enough power to get out of these damned cuffs. 

 

Without warning, the cuffs on Virgil’s wrists burst open, popping with electricity that seemed to glow black. Now free of the cuffs, Virgil felt his strength return to him almost complete. As soon as he was free, he held up his hands drawing a familiar shape in the air. Black lines began to form,  intersecting with grey ones until in the blink of an eye a large, circular rune was formed. A sound like thunder echoed in the small cell, and when the dust cleared the door to the cell was blown off it's hinges and lying in the ground. Conveniently, the captain lay under it, struggling to get the heavy iron off his chest. 

 

As Virgil stepped through the now-empty doorway, he turned to grin at the captain, placing a foot against his chest.

 

“Promise you won't get mad I outsmarted you.” He said with a sarcastic grin. The captain growled in frustration as Virgil’s foot left his chest, and he made his escape down the hall. 

 

Row after row of cell door passed in a blur, and Virgil didn’t stop for anything, not even the other prisoners as they called for him to free them. Cloak billowing out behind him, Virgil turned more corners than he could count. As he ran, Virgil noticed the magic that had finally returned was ebbing away the longer he ran. Hopefully this wasn't a permanent thing, and if it was he had a lot to worry about.

 

finally he came upon a large wooden doors that stood at the end of the hall, leading outside. He booked it towards the door, but as he reached out to grab the handle it flung open. He tripped forward in surprise, narrowly avoiding falling into the blue-clad back of a stranger. Unfortunate, his momentum kept him going right as the stranger whirled around, hitting him on the head with the staff he carried over his shoulder. He fell to the ground, dizzy and a bit shocked. 

 

“Oops, you okay there, kiddo?” A voice above him asked. 

 

“Step away, Patton.” Another said, and Virgil could hear the disdain in its voice. “That is a prisoner.” 

 

More footsteps approached, and before Virgil could clear the fog from his head another set of cuffs was slapped on his wrists, pulling his arms back uncomfortably. Not that they would do any good, as his magic just… wasn’t there any more. Gone, just like it had arrived. 

 

Yes, Virgil decided, sitting in his new cell, a far more powerful pair of cuffs on his wrists and al door reinforced with protective runes in front of him, this was a very, very bad day.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, beautiful readers! Thank you for checking out my story! And a big thank you to those that comment! Have a great day!!
> 
> (Next chapter: Roman’s world goes up in flames)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman’s world goes up in flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: explosions, fire, description of injury, near-drowning
> 
> (P.s google docs hates me, so sorry for any weird errors I missed :P )

Though the last few days had been rough, seeing  _ the gilded lion _ restored to her full potential made romans heart soar. Standing in the harbor, his ship repaired and his crew fully recovered, he could pretend that all of the misfortune that had befallen him hadn't happened, and that soon everything would be smooth sailing, literally. There was, however, the small detail that was a very powerful man currently residing in the nearby jail. It was easy to deal with the other men that had attacked them, after all the were only petty sailors that had a knack for slitting throats. But the magic user was something powerful, and roman knew he wouldn't leave him in a prison he had already escaped.

 

After much thought, and consulting with logan and patton, he decided the best course of action was too bring the thug o the capital city. The king would know what to do with him, and the roman ould be free to continue doing his job. Maybe he'd get some recognition, more important missions, and eventually maybe a higher rank. Yes, something good could come out of this little incident. 

 

It was nightfall when they were fully rady to set sail. They were well stocked for the journey to the capitol, patton was fully capable of his magic, and logan was satisfied with their plan.  All that was left to do was load the prisoner, and they would be off. Speaking of, roman could see the scoundrel now, being led out of the jail surrounded by guards. On his wrists sat a pair of thick cuffs that glowed softly with markings that, as roman understood, would suppress his magical ability to near useless. A similar collar sat around his neck, the faint glow casting menacing shadows on the mans face. Roman had been assured that these would be able to suppress the magic of even the most talented of mages. They were also un-pickable, and only one key could open them, a key that Roman had tied and tucked into the innermost pocket of his coat. 

 

As the lanterns that lined the docks flickered with the night wind, Roman approached the chained man, a smug look on his face. 

 

“Well, looks like this is the end of your capers. Once we take you to the capital you’ll be out of my hair and into the hands of the king.” He said, feeling quite accomplished in himself. The man said nothing, but only looked at him with a strange look on his face, like he was trying to solve a puzzle in his head. “What, cat got your tongue?” He mocked. Again, no reply. Well, this was no fun. Roman turned to the guards escorting the man. “Take him to the ship and leave him in the cell downstairs, gentlemen.” He instructed, and the guards seemed happy to comply if it meant they could get rid of their prisoner. 

 

As the guards led the prisoner to his ship, Roman joined Patton and Logan where they stood at the edge of the dock. Patton was peering under boxes and behind nets, looking worried. As he approached, Logan seemed to notice Roman and gestured to a very worried looking Patton. 

 

“It’s his cat.” He stated frankly. “It seemed the animal has run off somewhere, and Patton cannot-“ 

 

“He’s just gone!” Patton cried, sitting back on his heels. “Remy never runs away but he just jumped off my shoulder and now, now…” he trailed off, cocking his head to one side as if he was listening to something. “Do you guys hear that?” 

 

Roman could, in fact, hear something. It was faint, but there, a low, solid hum that vibrates the air. It was like a fly was buzzing right in his ear, and Roman had to resist the urge to swat around his head. 

 

“Hear something?” Logan asked, looking at Patton quizzically. “Patton, are you feeling okay?” 

 

“I’m fine” Patton said, standing up. “It’s just-“

 

And then the ship exploded.

 

The dock dissolved into chaos within a matter of seconds. Roman had been thrown off his feet and back always, lading with a thud on the splintered boards of the dock. Another explosion rocked the dock, the loose boards under Roman vibrating as if to say they wouldn’t last long. Stumbling to his feet, Roman looked around, eyes falling on the burning remains of his ship. 

 

For a second he froze. Flames licked the hull, so close Roman could feel the heat on his face. His dreams, his accomplishments, the things he had worked  _ so hard  _ for were turning to ashes right in front of his eyes. 

 

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his trance, and he turned to see Logan. The hand that hadn't been placed on his shoulder was hanging limply, the deep blue sleeve of his coat burned away to reveal a hand That has seen much better days. Patton was next to him, one eye covered in so much blood that Roman couldn't see it. The marks that ran up and down his arm were pulsing, signaling the terror he must be feeling. Roman opened his mouth to speak, but another explosion echoed through the chaos. But this time it wasn't a ship that was hit, not, it was the houses. The houses that held innocent people, families, children. 

 

“Oh god,” Roman whispered, horror a stone forming in his gut. “The town. They’re destroying the town.”

 

The three of them turned, surveying the scene before them in shock as fire and smoke choked the night. Buildings exploded, rock and wood raining down with ashes that drifted like snow. Roman didn't know were to look, what terrible scene to linger on. People were screaming, shops and houses were going up in flames, and the smoke in the air seemed thick enough to cut.

 

Movement to his right caught his eye. From the burning wreckage, a hunched figure appeared, running from the flames. Just as they escaped the fiery inferno, another explosion tore the dock out from under their feet, throwing the figure into the water. 

 

Roman acted without thinking, diving into the water and swimming towards the still sinking figure. As they thrashed, Roman noticed the glowing cuffs that sat on their wrists and neck. It was the man he had taken prisoner. 

 

A lightning flash of doubt rocked his mind. Why risk his life for this stranger? Why rescue a man that has tried to kill him? No one would know if he resurfaced alone, no one would even care really. His arms were heavy, his head felt foggy from the smoke and the stress of the moment. His could simply let himself float up and end this all. But just as quick as the thought came, Roman shook it from his head, shame and rage burning in his chest. The fact that he’d even considered for a second leaving this man to die, however much wrong he did, filled him with shame.

 

Diving deeper, Roman hooked his arms around the mans torso and heaved him up, kicking as hard as he could to get to the surface. His lungs screamed, and as soon as his head hit the cold, night air he gasped, inhaling in the smoky yet life saving air. He swam to shore, gratefully taking Patton and Logan’s outstretched hands. He heaved himself into the land, pulling the prisoner up with him. He paused, letting himself catch his breath turning to the man he’d rescued. Under his deep gray cloak, now darker after being soaked, Roman could see his chest moving steadily, through his eyes weren't open. Good, he was a alive. 

 

“We need to get out of here.” Logan stayed once Roman stood up. 

 

“No, no we can't just leave this town to burn!” Roman cried. 

 

“If we stay we will burn with it!” Logan exclaimed. Patton winced at the normally calm mans outburst. “But If we leave, we can send aid, request help from the king. We are useless here.” 

 

“Fine.” Roman growled. “We’ll leave, but we aren't abandoning this place.”

 

“Where will we go?” Patton asked, suppressing a cough. “The nearest town is miles away.” 

 

“I looked at a map of the area earlier, and we can get to a city nearby within a day if we cut through the forest.” Roman replied dejectedly, pointing towards the beginning of a forest thick with trees somehow untouched by the fires that were overtaking the town. 

 

“But i heard from the locals that it’s overrun with m-monsters!” Patton stuttered, staring at the forest with fear. 

 

“What other choice to we have?” Logan asked, panic lacing his voice. “We need to get out of here, inform the capitol, and warn others.” 

 

“We can handle it,” Roman assured, putting a reassuring hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Logan and I have our weapons, and you have your magic. I know you dislike violence, but at least you can defend yourself.” 

 

“What about him?” Patton asked, gesturing to the prisoner that was still laying on the shore.

 

Roman looked at the man. He was less menacing like this, with no intimidating grimace on his face, only the vacancy of sleep. He seemed… smaller, like he would fall over when met with a stiff breeze. 

 

“Perhaps he’ll be swayed to our side,” Roman said, lifting up still unconscious man into his arms, shifting him to be easily carried. “And if not, well, he’s still in those cuffs. He shouldn't pose a threat to us like that. The city will have a jailhouse we can leave him in, and than we can focus on more pressing matters.”

 

Patton nodded, and stared vacantly towards the daunting forest. Logan was silent, pondering, but he didn't object. Steadying himself, Roman stared ahead, into the inky night, flames casting dancing shadows in front of him. He flashed the other a confident smile as his gut churned with unsurety. With fear. In less than an hour his world had been turned upside down, his livelihood destroyed along with a town that had done nothing to deserve this. Whatever lay ahead, whatever dark force was following the stranger in his arms, it scared him. But he had a duty to do, to protect those who couldn’t stand for themselves. “Well, what are we waiting for?” He asked, striding confidently toward the daunting future ahead. 

 

“Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda hate this chapter, but let me know what you guys think! Also, BIG BIG thanks to those who commented! I love all of you so much!
> 
> (Next chapter: Virgil gets a rude awakening
> 
> Roman uses his skills with a sword, and makes a tough choice)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil gets a rude awakening
> 
> Roman uses his skills with a sword, and makes a tough choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: fighting, descriptions of injury, descriptions of monsters, violence
> 
> I hope y’all like this chapter!

For once in his life, sleep was easy for Virgil. Usually his dreams were plagued by nightmares and gruesome scenes that will have him gasping awake drenched in sweat, his sheets tangled around him like a hangman’s noose. But this was different, somehow; not gentle or refreshing, far from it in fact. but he felt at peace, like he was in the eye of the storm and turmoil is an ever present yet far off concept. He could stay like this forever, resting on the edge of the brink, so dangerously close to a nightmare yet still in sleeps soft embrace. 

 

But then, he woke up. His eyes were blinded by sunlight, and he groaned, trying to shift to blink it away, but he can't, arms held in place by something. 

 

“Well good morning, sleeping beauty.” An annoyingly familiar voice stated sarcastically. “Nice of you to finally join the land of the alert and useful.” 

 

By then Virgil’s eyes were adjusted to the glaring sunlight, which means he’s (almost) fully aware of being dropped unceremoniously on the ground. Groaning, Virgil tried to rub his eyes only for the insistent tug of a chain to stop him. Oh yeah, there’s that little detail. And not only is he once again chained, but they were smart enough to use cuffs that would actually impede him. It would be a miracle if Virgil could manage to wilt a daisy, let alone make his escape. 

 

“If I’m sleeping beauty, than you must be my Prince Charming.” Virgil grumble, finding his feet awkwardly. Now that he was up, he could see his surroundings clearly, and it did not provide him with much hope. He stood in the middle of a small path, overgrown in it's disuse. Trees stood tall on every side, reaching up to the sky and casting everything under them in shadows. As far as he could see there were trees, no end to the forest within sight. It was tranquil and silent, and peaceful sentence punctuated only by the rustle of leaves or snap of twigs in the distance.

 

“I’m going to take that as a complement!” 

 

The ambiance was broken thanks to that idiot captain. He turned unsteadily in his feet to meet golden brown eyes creased in anger meeting his own pale violet ones. Paying no attention to Virgil, the captain continued. 

 

“Anyways, now that you’ve  _ finally  _ woken up, you can walk for yourself.” The captain said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been nothing but a burden since we had the misfortune of meeting, and the quicker your step the quicker we can dump you into the nearest jail cell. Unless you’d like to be a little more cooperative? We discussed it, and if your willing to we’d be open to accepting any help you could provide.”

 

_ We?  _ Virgil wondered, before his eyes landed on the two other men, who’d been silently standing behind the captain. The taller one was nothing special, just plain, dark brown hair and slightly scratched spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose. However the shorter one, standing behind the other, was unique looking. No, it wasn't the glowing eyes that grabbed Virgil’s eye, or the tall, gnarled wood staff, or the crystals wrapped in leather chords and wire. Those things were all common to magic users, simple conduits if energy. No, it was the intricate marking that glowed faintly in the dappled shadows that drew his attention to him. Light blue and curling along his arms and face like frost on a glass pane, Virgil knew of only one species that fit the description. No doubt if he were to move the chestnut brown hair that curled around the man’s ears, he’d find them to be slightly pointed. Did the captain know what he was? Probably not, the blithering idiot. He wouldn’t recognize the use of a Sylphid.

 

“Anybody home? Or are you still waterlogged?” A hand waved in front of Virgil’s face, snapping him from his thoughts. Virgil rolled his eyes. 

 

“I’m perfectly fine, Princey. Just wondering when your going to start floating.” The captain looked at him like he was crazy, and Virgil smirked inwardly. “Y’know, because your so full of hot air.” 

 

The captains ears turned red as he glared “I’ll take that as a no. Well then, hurry up and get going.” The captain said, pointing forwards. Virgil had no choice but to comply, and began to trek along the path, the others following behind him.

 

The walked to what seemed like hours, but Virgil knew it had only been a few miles. After a while the three behind him had began to talk, trading useless banter and conversation. Every time their voices raised Virgil resisted the urge to flinch, his hands twitching with every sudden snap of a branch or boisterous laugh. They stopped every now and then, and each time he was ignored, left to sit by himself, which was just how he liked it. 

 

Dusk came quicker than expected, due to the darkness cast by the towering trees, and the captain loudly proclaimed that they were to set up camp. The other two agreed, the taller one saying something about “adequate space and resources.” The sylphid set to work building a fire as the captain galavant off into the woods with his sword and the taller man in tow to search of food. Neither seemed very concerned for the sylphid, which meant Virgil probably shouldn’t try anything. Who knows what he could do. Instead, Virgil watched as he tried to light a fire using two sticks and a small bundle of moss. It did not work, as evident by the ten minutes that passed with not even a spark. 

 

“Why don't you use just your magic?” Virgil asked, curiosity winning over him. The sylphid looked at him startled at his sudden question, before a sheepish grin spread across his face. 

 

“I’m not the best at destruction magic,” he admitted cheerfully. “I’ve learned it the old fashioned way, but it’s been a while since I had to actually do it!” 

 

The sylphid continues with his work, and Virgil watched in silence before finally frustration overtook him. He stood from the tree, and as he did the sylphid seemed to flinch back, fingers flexing just in case of an attack. But Virgil payed him no mind, and instead kneeled by the ring of stones that made a makeshift fire pit, and placed a hand on the dry moss. All he could muster was the smallest of flames, but it was enough. The sylphid look at him with surprise.

 

“What?” He growled, mustering a glare. “I wasn't just going to freeze all night.” 

 

If the sylphid was going to answer Virgil didn't hear it, because as soon as he finished his sentence the captain and the tall man came out of the brush, two rabbit-like animals held proudly in his hands. Virgil hardly had enough time to scramble back to the little tree he had been resting on. 

 

“Patton, you got a fire going!” The captain cheered, setting the rabbits down next to flames. The taller one placed a large bundle tied in some kind of cloth next to the animals. 

 

“Patton, I know you have an aversion to eating the, er, cute, animals,” the taller one said, “so I gathered you some edible berries and roots. It should be enough to sustain you until morning.” 

 

The sylphid beamed. “Why, thank you Logan!” He said, pulling open the bundle and giving the contents a glance, before pulling out a branch of berries. “Oh, and Roman, the fire was-“ 

 

Apparently the sylphid saw the look on Virgil’s face, because he trailed off, before resuming with “easy as pie! Because I did it, all me, yup!” 

 

The captain  apparently didn't notice the sylphids momentary stutter, because the conversation continued on like normal. 

 

Soon enough, the conversation began to lull and the fire began to dim, and the three men were yawning through there words. The taller man and the sylphid made makeshift beds out of their discarded coats around the fire, while the captain settled against tree to keep watch. Virgil shifted to the side and focused on drifting off into sleep, but the feeling of being watched by begrudging eyes followed him into slumber. 

 

___

  
  


Roman watched on for a while, the crackling of the fire his only company as he watched his companions (and annoyance) sleep on. It was boring, but peaceful, sitting in the dim light of the fire, watching their surroundings for anything suspicious. Occasionally a stick would crack or a branch would rustle, but the night passed without major incident. After awhile, he roused logan to replace him and settled down to get some sleep. He rested easy knowing that a trustful eye was watching over him and Patton. 

 

Morning came, and Roman was awoken by the smells of meat cooking over the remains of the fire. He stretched, yawned, and rubbed away the ache that came from sleeping outside. 

 

“Why, good morning brave captain!” Patton’s cheery voice rang through the small clearing where they had made camp. 

 

“You should have woken me earlier!” Romanexclaimed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Patton and Logan were sitting by the glowing coals, and their prisoner was still leaning against the tree he had settled against the night before. 

 

“You’ve has a rough time lately, we thought it might be wise to let you sleep in a while longer.” Logan stayed. He pulled a stick off the fire and handed it to Roman. Whatever that rabbit thing was last night it was delicious, and the leftover smelled just as good. 

 

“We also fed the prisoner,” Logan continued, gesturing to the man leaning against the tree. Roman nodded as he chewed his meat. 

 

“How much longer until we’re out of this forest?” He asked. 

 

“If we make good time, we can reach the nearest city within three days.” Logan answered. 

 

Roman stood to his feet, discarding of his stick now empty of meat. 

 

“Let’s get going, than!” He stated. The other two nodded, and the three of them began to pack up what little camp they made. The prisoner rose to his feet as well, but he didn't bother helping, just stood there. Geez, this guy was creepy. Roman could wait to get rid of him. 

 

Soon they set off, the prisoner in the lead followed closely by Roman. He knew that it wouldn’t be a wise choice to put the prisoner behind any of them, and even if he tried to run he wouldn’t last long in this forest.

 

As Roman drifted off in thought, thinking of things far more interesting than their forest hike, he was stopped abruptly by running into the prisoners back. 

 

“Hey!” He yelled, “what are you-?” 

 

“Shut up.” The prisoner snapped. 

 

Roman glared. “You do  _ not  _ tell me to shut up! If anything, I would be-“ 

 

“Shut  _ up!”  _

 

He’s cut off by the prisoner whirling around to face him, pale shadow-lined eyes wide with… fear? 

 

a moment of stillness that follows. For some reason, Roman stays quiet, and the forest is still, not even the wind blowing. 

 

And then he hears it, faintly, then louder, the crash of trees falling, of something massive trampling the foliage. Turning quickly Roman can see it, the distant tips of the trees swaying, coming closer and closer each second. 

 

“Run!” He yells, breaking their frozen moment. No one hesitates to listen to him, they just run. A deafening roar comes from behind them, and the trees seem to shake with the force of it. 

 

Through the trees next to him comes another shape, a daunting silhouette at least as big as a house. A tree falls in from of him and he hardly has enough time to dodge it as he runs on. Another roar resounds through the forest, closer this time. 

 

The four of them stumbled into a clearing, and Roman was filled with despair. In front of them was a harsh cliff, a river on their right flowing into a thunderous waterfall hundreds of feet below. They wouldn't survive the fall, and their front was blocked by the creature that had been chasing them. 

 

Eight legs stemmed from a thick, hairy body as tall as two men. Each leg was the size of a wagon wheel, and as tall as a fully grown tree. A wolfs head covered in thick fluffy fur dissolved into a row of spines, and a foaming maw snaps wildly, spit flying from it's huge canines. 

 

“It’s a luparan!” The prisoner yelled, panting heavily. 

 

“A what?” Roman asked, drawing his sword. 

 

“A luparen,” Logan breathed. “A rare but dangerous creature that is known to possess great strength and speed. It’s prime tactic of hunting-“ 

 

“Get to the point, specs!” Roman shouted as the luparen advanced on them. 

 

“As I was saying-“ 

 

“They hunt in packs!” The prisoner yelled, cutting logan off just as two more of the massive beasts thundered into the clearing. 

 

The closest one struck out towards Roman, and he narrowly avoided a fang the size of his hand plunging into his neck. He swiped at one of the gargantuan legs with his sword before rolling out of the way. Another leg slammed down in front of him, the ground shaking with the force of it. Spinning around and thrusting his sword up, Roman managed a solid hit to one of their slimy abdomens. 

 

A quick glance told him that his companions were faring about as well as he was. The marks that curled around Patton’s arms and face were blinking erratically as he moved his hands in fluid motions, making ice blue circles of energy materialize where the luparens were a tempting to bite. His eyes were blown wide with terror, and he very narrowly avoided an incoming leg when he threw his hands out, shifting the materialized shield away from himself and in front of Logan, who was weaving around the legs of one of the beasts stabbing with his rapier. Patton’s shields only just saved him from what was sure to have been a deadly blow.

 

Another leg swings out to hit him, and almost catches him in the chest if not for his quick reflexes. Roman retaliates with another slash of his sword, before dashing towards his friends. 

 

Excruciating pain stops him as a fang sinks into his upper arm. He lets out a strangled cry as he pulls away, his arm hanging limp. Blood dribbled down the wound and onto his hand, and Roman has no time to try to stop it as the luparens jaws lunge at him again. 

 

But there’s a blue glow in front of him and the fangs of the luparen are stopped by one of Patton’s shields. Roman turns to thank him, and Patton is panting with exertion, the once bright markings on his arm now faintly pulsing. Logan stands beside him, sword raised to defend them both. 

 

It happens in slow motion. One minute Logan is there and the next a timber sized leg is shooting out and he’s falling, falling, falling, through the air and over the dizzying cliff. Patton’s eyes blow wide with terror and Roman can  _ see  _ the moment the decision is made. His eyes harden, his face steadies, and he dives off the cliff. 

 

Roman is stunned. His lungs construct, his throat tightens because  _ no one can survive that fall _ .

 

And then he’s flying through the air, but his back hits a tree and the breath is knocked out of him. His vision blurs but he struggles to his feet, his sword a crutch that he attempts to wield. He’s alone now.

 

But than there someone standing beside him, dark cloak and shadow seemingly out of nowhere. 

 

“You  **ne** ed to  **unch** ain me.” He states, and there’s a slight distortion in the way he speaks, and it chills the air around them. Roman shakes his head because  _ are you crazy? If we survived he’d kill me. “ _ **It** ’s the  **only** w **ay** t **o survi** ve,  **you idiot.”**

 

“You’ll kill me.” Roman gasps out, lungs still not cooperating. “As soon as you can you will.” 

 

The prisoner groans in frustration. “I **swea** r to **you** on my **essen** ce that **I won't kill you.** ”

 

As soon as the sentence is finished Roman feels ripple pass through the air. He turns to the prisoner, and he sees his wide eyes, the way he shakes, the labored breaths that rock his body. He doesn't want to die, and neither does Roman. So he reaches into the pocket of his coat, rips the key from the thread that held it there, and slams it into the lock holding the collar and cuffs in place. 

 

It’s like an explosion.

 

The air hums with power as runes form around them, circles and squares an symbols Roman can't keep track of. Black lighting crackles and fills his lungs with the chemical smell of destruction. One of the circles centers itself in front of the prisoner’s outstretched hands and more symbols, glowing black and grey and dripping darkness, form in it's center. 

 

The luparens don’t stand a chance.

 

Once the smoke clears it’s just the two of them and a silence so loud Roman can't think. The prisoner stands there, surveying his destruction, wind whipping his cape back and exposing the feeling shadows of his face and the glowing, grey-violet eyes. 

 

He can see him consider it. His eyes flicker down to hands, still crackling with energy, his mouth a thin line. One flick of a finger and Roman would be dead. But his hands tremble in a strange way, unnatural, like a puppet, and the prisoner shakes his head and lowers his hands. 

 

“I’ll help you.” 

 

It’s whispered so quietly Roman can barely hear him. “Pardon?”

 

“I said I’ll help you.” The prisoner said, louder this time. “I don't know my way out of this forest, and unless you get those wounds healed soon you won't be able to make it. So I’ll help you find your friends, we get out, and than our paths diverge. And if you try to stop me I can do far worse than kill you.” 

 

“What do you mean find my friends?” Roman asked. “They couldn't survive that fall, not without some kind of levitation.” Which Patton can't do, Roman thinks to himself. He can very clearly remember the time he broke his arm after a nasty fall from the crows nest, and could hardly heal himself he was in so much pain. 

 

The prisoner let out a breathy, mocking laugh. “You really  _ don't  _ know.” He shakes his head, and starts walking towards the forest, gesturing for Roman to follow “Come on, we'd better leave before more show up. I can explain once we put some distance between us and the rest of their pack.” 

 

Roman nods, and follows his new ally into the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters get longer and longer! Anyways, thank you so much to those who comment, it’s what keeps me going! Have a great day, lovely readers!
> 
> (Next chapter: Patton reveals a close kept secret
> 
> Logan learns some strange things about a close friend)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton reveals a close kept secret
> 
> Logan learns some strange things about a close friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: near drowning, description of injury, I think that’s it?
> 
> This is long chapter, and I’m actually kinda proud of it? Idk, but I hope you enjoy!!

Logan is going to die, and he knows it. It was a fairly easy conclusion to come to, because human man plus 100 foot drop always equals an unsavory ending. All that Logan can do is close his eyes and hope the end comes swiftly.

 

But than he feels hands grab at him, clutching him close and he opens his eyes and it’s… Patton? 

 

Dread curdles in his stomach because now they were  _ both  _ going to die, scattered apart by the harsh impact of earth. Patton didn't deserve this, no, he was  _ far  _ too good of a person for this kind of ending. 

 

“Logan, snap out of it!” 

 

Logan’s eyes meet Patton’s, and instead of the panicked flickering he’d expect there’s only a steady, strong blue glow. 

 

“Listen, I need you to hold onto me, as tight as you can!” Patton yells over the rushing of the wind that whips past them. Logan listens, grabbing Patton and holding him close, because whatever plan he ha it’s better than nothing. Patton’s gripping him tightly, and Logan feels his knuckles shake from the grip on his arm. 

 

At first it’s almost unnoticeable, hardly a decrease in speed, but a second passes and without a doubt they’re slowing down. They’re still falling, but instead of blurred surroundings Logan can make out the details of the quickly approaching river under them. They’re 20, 30 feet away and almost completely stopped when Patton’s lets out a strangled gasp and they plummet like stones again. 

 

The water is cold when it hits them, and it takes everything Logan has not to gasp at the sudden temperature change. Patton is ripped from his grasp, and he tumbles through the current until finally he is thrown to shore. As soon as he’s free of the icy river he’s searching for Patton, eyes blurry without his glasses. 

 

There, in the roots of an overturned tree half submerged in the raging current, he sees him. Logan takes a moment to judge the speed if the water and where he needs to enter to get to Patton as fast as possible, and than he dives in, swimming fast and grabbing Patton’s arm. The other man’s eyes are closed but his breathing is still steady, which is a relief to Logan. 

 

Soon they reach the shore, and Logan dragged the both of them onto the rough pebble sand. Logan gives himself a moment to catch his breath and take out the spare pair of glasses he keeps on him before he’s kneeling next to Patton. His eyes flutter gently, breathing still steady as if he hadn't just been half submerged in a river. Logan doesn't quite know what to do, because Patton looks completely fine but still isn't awake. 

 

Just as that thought finishes, Patton jerks awake, gasping, eyes wide and one hand outstretched like he was reaching for someone. And now that he’s sitting up, Logan can see behind him. Specifically, he can see the two gauzy, powder blue wings folded behind his back glowing softly in the afternoon light. 

 

“Oh, Logan, hey kiddo!” Patton says cheerily, as if they were simply two friends meeting for a stroll and not two friends who just almost died together. “What are you…” the trails away as he noticed Logan’s confused expression, than traces it towards his back. 

 

Panic fills his eyes, but patton keeps a smile on his face. “Oh, you saw them, huh? Guess it was inevitable.” He sighs, and shifts his legs to more comfortable position. “I should explain, then” 

 

Logan copies his relaxed posed, dusting off his already ruined coat as he does in a futile attempt at staying neat. “I do suppose an explanation would be nice. I find myself unable to come to a logical conclusion as to why” 

 

Patton looked off into the distance, still physically there but not fully present, his eyes take on a melancholy sheen as he starts to speak. “I’ll start at the beginning. I’m a…” he pauses, as if contemplating his words. “I’m a sylphid.” 

 

It’s a name that sounds familiar, but Logan can’to quite tell where he’s heard it. Patton continues. 

 

“You might have heard of us. We’re a rare race of creatures, descendants of ancient air elementals and humans from, well, I don't even know how long ago! There isn't a lot known about our history, because… we’ll, we were hunted. Still are, in fact. Our essence is powerful and, when used correctly, can amplify a person's magic beyond imagination. We usually live in small villages in the mountains— I personally came from the Great peaks— and communities are close knit and protective of each other.” 

 

Patton paused, looking to Logan to make sure he still follows. He’s still scared, Logan can tell. His eyes are uncertain, the marks running up and down his arms are flickering ever so slightly. And then the wings, still a little shocking to look at, twitching like a heartbeat. Now that he could look at them closer, they weren't attached at the back like a birds, but seemed to fade into existence starting about an inch from Patton’s back and ending by where ankles would be if he was standing up. 

 

“You like the wings?” Patton asked, and the wings seem to perk up with his tone, fluttering a bit. “It’s part of what sylphids can do. Our essence is incredibly powerful, and we manifest it visually in the wings and markings.” He gestured to his arms, and the swirls that decorated his cheeks and arms seemed to glow in response. 

 

“It’s fascinating.” Logan remarked, stepping closer to get a better look. “I thought these were just enchanted tattoos?” 

 

“That’s just how I hide it. Can't have people know I’m a super rare magic creature, right?” Patton replied. Logan nodded. It made sense that Patton would try to hide his unique traits, and similar glowing tattoos did exist. “What else can you do?”

 

“Well, since I’m an air elemental, I can control the air around me. Breezes, sometimes strong gusts if I’m rested and focused. I can purify air, too, so harmful gases are nothing. And breathing underwater, that’s easy.” Patton answers. “And I guess I don't have to mention that I can fly.” 

 

“I could infer.” Logan said, cracking a smile. “I do wonder though, you said the essence of sylphids are very strong, yet you aren't particularly adept at any magic besides healing. Is there a reason for that?” 

 

Patton stopped for a second, quiet, wings twitching behind him. He seemed frozen for a second, still as stone, the sounds of the forest playing around them. Than he sighed, wrapping his arms around himself.  “I… when I was young, there was a— well, my, uh, my village—“ 

 

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Patton.” Logan said, putting s hand on Patton’s shoulder. Patton seemed to bristle for a second, before he loss ended his arms, smiling brightly. 

 

“No, no I’m fine!” He said, brushing off the somber tone he seemed to have unknowingly taken on. “I just had a little accident when I was younger, that’s all.”

 

Patton obviously didn't want to talk about the subject, so Logan decided to change the topic at hand. 

 

“patton, what are we going to do now? Can you fly us back up there?” He asked, gesturing to Patton’s wings. Patton seemed to droop, eye lowering with disappointment. 

 

“I would if I could, but my wings… I haven't used them in years. They’re so weak, just using them to slow us down tired me out so much I passed out.” 

 

“I see,” Logan said, nodding. “Well, we have two options: find a way up that cliff, or try to continue on to our original destination.” 

 

“Oh!” Patton perked up, as if he’d just remembered something. “When we were falling, I think I saw a house a ways away! Maybe we could get there and ask for help?” 

 

“Yes, good work Patton.” Logan said, standing up and rubbing his sore muscles. He offered a hand to Patton, and he took it, smiling gratefully as he pulled himself to his feet. “Which direction was it in?”

 

“Um,” Patton looked around, then pointed towards the forest that creeped along the edge of the riverbank. “That way, maybe a mile or so.” 

 

Logan nodded. “Alright then, we’ll continue that direction and hopefully we’ll find the house you saw. If not, I’m sure I can navigate us out of here once night comes.” He took a step towards the forest, but his ankle twinged in protest, and Logan could help but since. Besides him, Patton gasped. 

 

“Logan, your hurt! Here, let me.” He said, pulling Logan back down to the ground. 

 

“No, I’ll be fine Patton, save your energy.” Logan protested, but Patton gave him a fierce look that silence him immediately. 

 

“Now, that’s no way to talk Logan! Your wellbeing is important to me, and besides, I’ve still got enough energy in a pinch.” 

 

As he spoke, he held his fingers over Logan’s ankle. Blue lines started to twist along where his hands were held, until logans ankle was glowing blue and his pain was fading. Patton was concentrating on the blue lines weaving in and out, eyes focused intently, eyes glowing as bright as a star in the night sky. 

 

“Patton?” Logan asked. Patton seemed to snap out of, smiling sheepishly. 

 

“Sorry! Got a bit focused there. Should we go now?” 

 

Logan nodded, and they both got to their feet, heading towards where Patton had pointed. 

 

About an hour passed with nothing but uninterrupted forest before a small cottage finally came into view. It was quaint, rough natural stone walls covered by climbing vines of purple roses and ivy. Behind the house sat a waterfall, pooling into a river that flowed in front of the house, stepping stones making a path to the house. The entire scene was ringed with trees, making a clearing that must have been easy to spot during their fall from the sky. 

 

“Well, let's go then!” Patton cheered, approaching the house. He paused for a second, and a shudder ran down his body as the glowing wings faded from view. “I don't want to alarm whoever lives in there.” He explained. 

 

Logan nodded, and followed as they crossed the small row of stones and stood in front of the door. Logan knocked, three sharp rasps that cut through the silence of the first around them. For a moment, nothing happens, but than the door swung open revealing the person within. 

 

Multi colored strands of hair wisped around their head, pinks and blue and teals belonging into a rainbow that reached just past their ears. They were short, smaller than Patton even, but despite their size they exuded a kind of confident spark. A collection of cloth made up their clothes, whites and blacks blending together accented with a few colourful crystals. And then, perched upon their shoulder, was—

 

“Remy!” Patton cried as the fluffy grey cat jumped into his arms. They nuzzled each other for a second, the large cat purring so loud Logan could hear it. “Where have you been!” 

 

“He showed up on my doorstep just the other day.” The owner of the cottage said, a smile gracing their face. “You must be Patton?” 

 

Patton looked up from the grey fluff he had buried his face into, surprise on his face. “How did you…” 

 

“I told them!” 

 

The two of them froze for a second, because  _ good stars above the cat just  _ **_talked_ ** _. _

 

“What?” The cat asks, jumping down from Patton’s arms and curling around the persons legs. “They have been just the sweetest to me!” 

 

“Patton.” Logan says slowly, not taking his eyes off the cat. “Did he do that before!” 

 

“N-no?” Patton replies. “Not that I know of…”

 

“That’s because  _ they  _ did me a favor and lifted a bit of my curse.” The cat says, tail flicking towards the owner of the cottage. The owner smiled in response, reaching down to scratch the cats scruff. 

 

“Why don't you two come in?” The person says, gesturing inside. “We can explain over a cup of tea. You seem like you need it.” 

 

Still a bit shocked, Patton and Logan step inside. The inside of the small house is larger than expected, with all sorts of things strewn around. Plants were potted in everything from large, ornate vases to a thimble size, hollow gem holding a tiny cactus. Teardrop shapes crystals hung from the ceiling, swaying in the breeze and throwing patterns of light across the entire room. 

 

“My name is Talyn, by the way,” the person, Talyn said, striding leads a doorway that led into an adjacent room. “You can sit wherever.” 

 

Logan chose a small armchair made of leather, while Patton sat down on a sofa, Remy jumping up on his lap. 

 

“So…” Patton said, starting at the cat. “You can… talk?” 

 

“Yup!” The cat said, curling up with his head on Patton’s lap. “Talyn noticed my curse and tried to lift it. Unfortunately, it was placed by a pretty powerful dude, so I just get talking back. Better than nothing though, am I right?.”

 

“Excuse me, but what curse?” Logan asks, listening intently. 

 

“He used to be a man.” Talyn said, returning from the kitchen with four mugs. Two were held in their hands, and two floated behind them, floating gently and avoiding hanging crystals. “But he managed to piss off a warlock, and look where it got him.” 

 

Patton looked at the cat with surprise. “You, you were a person? Like a real person?” He groaned, throwing his head back. “Do you know how many embarrassing things I’ve done in front of you?” His face flushed red and he covered his cheeks with his hands. “I changed in front of you!” 

 

“I didn't look!” Remy said, offended that Patton would accuse him of such an immoral  act. “I’m a guy in a cats body, not a perv!” 

 

Talyn passes them all their own cup of tea before sitting on an ornate looking wicker chair. “Now, What brings you to my part of the forest?” 

 

“We were separated from our friend.” Patton said, stroking remy's fur softly. 

 

“Yes. During a fight with some magical creatures, we were thrown off a cliff and into the waters below. We’re hoping to regroup with our friend at your nearest city. Maybe you could give us directions?” 

 

“The cliff, you said?” Talyn asked, sipping their steaming mug. Logan also takes a drink, and finds the tea to be warm and sweet with hints of pleasant spice that seeps into his weary bones. “Let me guess, the luparens?” 

 

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “How did you know?” 

 

“A pack lives near their. I check in on them from time to time.” 

 

Logan hummed in response. A strange hobby, but he supposed that looking after magical beasts could have its perks. 

 

“As for directions, I can help you with that. But I insist you stay a night, to rest and get supplies.” Talyn continued. 

 

“We’ve already intruded, I wouldn't want to encroach in your privacy even more-“ Logan objects, but Talyn waves him off. 

 

“It’s no problem,” they say, “ I have a spare room upstairs for the occasional wayward traveler. I can provide you with a hot meal, some rations for the trip, and-“ they look them up and down “-a bath.” 

 

“A bath would be lovely!” Patton sighs happily. 

 

“Well, if you’d like you can take one now.” Talyn sauds, setting their cup down and standing up. “The waterfall outside has been enchanted to take whatever temperature you want. Let me just get you some soap.” They leave, and return shortly which a small jar made of carved wood. 

 

The waterfall is beautiful, and far too perfect to be made naturally. A wall of water cascades down into a small pool that starts off shallow but deepens to at least chest deep. Stones, small and large, rim the pool, some carved into chairs and other left natural. When the first pool ends another forms under it, making a stairway step of pools that spread out, ending in one final small river that loops around the house. 

 

“This is incredible!” Patton gasps, sipping a hand onto the shallow pool. They both begin to strip off their coats and pants, until they stand only in their undergarments. Might as well wash them too. 

 

The water is pleasantly warm, just as talyn, and Logan sighs as he lowers himself into the deeper end of the pool. Patton sits cross legged under the waterfall, laughing as water streams around him. Logan lets himself relax, the stress of the last few day melting away in the warmth of the glowing water. He states like that for a few minutes before he feels a nudge against his arm, and he opens his eyes to see the wooden pot bobbing gently against his arm. 

 

“The soap!” Patton calls over the rushing water, giving Logan a thumbs up. Logan nods, giving him a silent thanks. The contents of the pot are as sticky and golden as honey, and Logan isn't sure if they got the wrong pot, but a small pinch rubbed between his fingers makes golden suds spear in the water, so he decides it’s safe. 

 

After they’re both thoroughly cleaned and dried, they redress and make their way back inside. Decadent smells float from the kitchen, and the two of them follow their noses to find a feast layer out on the large oak table. Cooked meats with layers of herbs crusting them, veggies covered in glaze, apples filled with cinnamon and butter, and dishes so fancy Logan had only seen them at his father's dinner meetings. 

 

“This is amazing!” Patton says, awed, eyes wide and shining as he surveys the spread. “How did you-?”

 

Talyn walks through a door, a bowl of purple star-shaped fruit in their arms. “Magic.” They day, one hand lifted with a gentle flurry of sparks humming around the fingertips. “Now, let's eat!”

 

The food is as delicious as it smells, and the first few minutes of eating are silent as the two savor every flavorful bite. Logan is impressed by how fine the food seems to be. He’d had his fair share of expensive dishes and rare cuisine, but nothing had ever tasted like this. 

 

After a while of silence, Patton begins to speak. “So, are those crystals anything special?” He motions to the teardrop-shaped crystals swinging gently from the curling. So far each room they’d been in had been decorated by them, casting a rainbow of light across the walls. Each one was different; somewhere as large as melons, some tiny as glass beads; some colored in creamy yellows and fiery reds, others dark purples and inky blues. They were beautiful to see, but curious. 

 

“Ah,” Talyn says, nodding. “Those are my prophecies.” They must see Patton and Logan’s confused looks, because they continue on. “You see, I am an Oracle. I was blessed by the gods with the power to foresee the possible futures that lay ahead, in the winding path of time. Some show misfortune, others show prosperity. None are set in stone, though. They are warnings, roadmaps, puzzles that must be solved by the one they are intended for.” 

 

They reach up, and pluck a fist sized green crystal from the ceiling. “For hundreds of years, I’ve stayed here, creating these prophecies, waiting for the ones who are destined to receive them.” A sad smile grace their face, as they stare into the swirling green depths. “Some never come. Some do. I don't know which is worse.”

 

“Are there…” Patton paused, considering. “Are there any for us?”

 

Talyn replaces the green crystal to it's place on the ceiling. “I don't know yet. But I have a feeling that something will make itself known to you very, very soon.”

 

Dinner finishes, and Talyn rejects their attempt to help clean up. “Magic, remember?” They say, and dishes begin floating to the sink. The two of them are pointed up a flight of stairs, towards the guest bedroom. 

 

It’s a small room, decorated sparsely, but still homey. A large mirror sits upon a dresser, a few brushes laying out on the surface. The small bed is covered in colourful quilts that are soft to the touch. An armchair sits across from the bed, padded with purple velvet cushions with golden trimming. 

 

“You can take the bed, patton.” Logan says, taking the glasses off his face and folding them neatly, setting them on the dresser. “I’m used to sleeping in chairs, so I will be fine.” 

 

“Nonsense, the beds big enough for both of us!” Patton chides, pulling away the quilt. He takes a second to remove his coat, leaving him in only his light blue tunic and brown pants. His round glasses are placed onto the neatly folded pile of over clothes before he slides into the bed. “C’mon,” he beckons, “it’ll be fine.” 

 

Reluctantly, Logan removes his own coat and joins Patton on the bed. There enough room for the both of them, but it’s a tight squeeze. Patton’s breathe warms his neck, and if he were to move a few inches back they would be touching. 

 

“Logan?” Patton whispers to his back, the sound a starkcintsts to the quiet of the attic bedroom. 

 

“Yes Patton?”

 

“What if we can't find Roman?”

 

Logan ponders the question. “We will go on without him. Hopefully he’ll make it to the nearest town, but it’s out of our hands. But Roman is a skilled swordsman, and he’s survived difficult situations before. I assure you, he will be fine.” 

 

“Alright.” Patton whispers, falling silent again, until once again a whisper breaks the silence. “Logan?”

 

“Yes Patton?” 

 

“I’m glad you're here with me.”

 

Logan doesn't answer, but he doesn't move away when Patton’s arms pull him close, encircling him in a warm embrace.

 

_____

 

Morning comes, the sun filtering in through the window, casting it's warm rays upon their shared bed. Logan cracks his eyes open, adjusting to the bright sunlight. Dust motes float through the cut of sun, swirling like a complicated dance he could never hope to master. 

 

“Mornin’, sleepy head!”

 

Patton’s cheerful greeting jolts him awake, and he sits up quickly to see Patton, fuzzy and not detailed without his glasses. 

 

“Good morning, Patton.” Logan answered, standing from the bed and pulling on his coat, setting his glasses firmly on the bridge of his nose. “I trust you slept well?” 

 

“Yup!” Patton replies. With his glasses, Logan can see that Patton was fully dressed, already sass and ready to face the day. “I was thinking we should set out as early as possible today, so we don't waste sunlight.”

 

“Yes, that seems to be a good choice.” Logan agreed, and the two of them head downstairs. 

 

Below, Talyn has produced another magical spread of food, just delicious as the last. When breakfast is over, they’re each presented with a pack, filled with rations and supplies. 

 

“You’ll need to continue northward several miles,” They instruct, tracing a finger along a map. “In about five miles you’ll hit a river. Follow that for the rest of the day, and you’ll be to town before sundown.” 

 

“Thank you so much, Talyn.” Patton says. Remy has taken his place upon his shoulders, curled around his neck like a living scarf. “I don't know where we would be if you didn't help us.”

 

“It’s nothing, really,” Talyn says, waving off his gratitude. “I’m thankful for the company.” 

 

“Well, it’s best we be off now,” Logan says, shouldering his pack. “We truly do appreciate you help, Talyn.” 

 

His hand hovered over the doorknob, but before he can twist it there’s a firm knock on the door. 

 

“More visitors so soon?” Talyn asks, and Logan steps aside to allow them to reach the door. “How odd.”

 

As the heavy oak door swings open, Talyn gasps, taking a step back in surprise. Before anyone can speak, a clattering sounds from behind them, and they turn to see a glowing crystal has fallen to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note: so guess what! I’m starting another sanders sides fic! Which means I might have to start updating every other week :( but I’m very excited to post this next fic, which is a ghost au! Anyways, thanks to everyone who commented on the last chapter, it’s so great to read your feedback! 
> 
> (Next chapter: Roman and Virgil talk, and find they aren't so different after all)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, let me just say a few things before this chapter starts. First of all, I’m /so so so/ sorry this chapter took so long to post. I started other projects, and in doing so abandoned this fic for a few months, and I feel really bad about that. So I really mean it when I say I’m sorry, because I understand how annoying itbit when authors don’t update for a long time. Secondly! In order to get this chapter out quicker, it’s a bit messy. Oops! But I’m going to go back through and fix any inconsistencies I find, I promise. Anyways, sorry for rambling, and thank you so much for reading my fic!

“So, about Patton…”

 

Virgil looks up from his work, hands outstretched over the captains jagged wound that pulses with the venom of a monster. Healing magic was never his forte; in the beginning, it always came out wrong, twisted. like the taste of tea that’s been sitting out for a week, it left a sickeningly sweet and moldy taste in his mouth. But now, after hours and hours of practice healing his own wounds, he could ignore the sharp wrongness of it. 

 

“Yes,” he sighed, looking back at his glowing hands. “Where to start… how much do you know about elementals?”

 

The captain hums in thought. “Not much, to be honest. I know there’s four elements, earth, than air, water, and finally, fire.”

 

Virgil nodded, shifting to begin the healing needed on the captains leg. “Well, that’s the beginning. Elementals are being made purely of the essence of a certain element. Their very being is made of power, they can do unimaginable things. But long ago, they all died off.”

 

“How?” The other man asks, looking at Virgil with wide eyes. 

 

“No one knows. There’s little evidence of how they existed, only that they did. But anyways, back to the point: before they died out, they, well… experiment, you could say. Some left parts of their being to be fused with the land, creating a sirt if holy ground. Others found the insignificant species know as humans and decided to… mate, with them. That’s what Patton is; the distant descendent of a being only one step down from one of the gods.”

 

“Unbelievable,” The captain said. “To thin, my closest friend held such a powerful secret. It must have been a great burden on him.” For a second, his large brown eyes seemed to wander, but than they focused upon Virgil again. “How  _ did  _ you realize patton was a, Whatever you called him?”

 

“A sylphid,” Virgil corrected, standing up and stretching before moving on to the largest wound, the shoulder. “And it was pretty obvious, actually. The glowing marks on his arms, his affinity for healing magic, though he should be pretty good at  _ all  _ magic- well, let’s just say it was obvious.”

 

“But that still doesn’to explain how the two of the could survive,” Roman pointed out. Virgil nodded. 

 

“The most famous thing that makes sylphids recognizable is a manifestation of their essence that sprouts directly from the heart and continues if of their shoulder blades. In simpler terms? They have wings. Legends say one string sylphid could carry and entire family in their arms.”

 

Finally, he was done, every life-threatening wound on the captain and him was healed. “Now, any more questions, or should we get going before another monster decides we look like dinner and dessert?”

____

 

After the two of them have made some distance, only after the rest when they healed their wounds, that Virgil’s mind has switched off of “immediate danger” mode and into “oh god we almost died” mode. It’s nearly an hour later, the danger has passed and  _ he knows it _ , but suddenly his heart is beating out of his chest and his head is buzzing. The world starts to darken with the familiar haze of panic, but he pushes on.  _ Your safe _ he chides himself, stumbling over a rock,  _ nothing is after you your  _ _ fine.  _

 

But his heart is racing and he feels like he drowning and he just  _ can't  _ take it anymore, and plops down onto a fallen log to try and quell the creeping panic that has latched its bony hands around his heart, trailing sharp fingernails down his spine. 

 

“Are you alright?” 

 

He’d almost forgotten the captain in his panic-induced haze, but now the man is kneeling in front of him, eyes filled with equal parts suspicion and concern. He opens his mouth to shoo him away, but no words come out. 

 

The captain continues, peering closer at him. “Are you still injured? Have you been poisoned? Is there any way can offer my assistance?”

 

“I- it’s n-nothing, I just-“ Virgil starts, but a wave of nausea cuts him off, and he can only wrap his arms around himself and fight off the tears that prickle at the corners of his eyes. “Bad. Scared. Panicking.” He chokes out. His throat feels like it’s closing up, and he can’to breathe  _ he can't breath-  _

 

A pair of strong hands clasp his shoulders, and Virgil’s head shoots up in surprise. The captain has him by the shoulders, grip firm, but his eyes are soft and understanding. 

 

“Listen, you need to breathe, alright?” He says, his eyes full of genuine concern. “I know it’s hard, but try to slow down your breaths to a steady rhythm. Here, follow my lead.” 

 

He starts taking big, deep breaths, and Virgil follows suite, trying to fill his lungs with the air they crave. Slowly but surely panics grip on him loosens, brittle fingers losing third purchase in his rib cage and crumbling to dust as his heart slows to a steady pace and the buzzing in his mind fades away. 

 

The captain is still there, the hands on his shoulders like a they get to the earth. Once Virgil was done panicking, he realized how pathetic he must seem. Poor, weak little Virgil, having a goddamn  _ fit  _ in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Are you-“ 

 

“I’m fine!” Virgil snaps, cutting off the calling and standing to his feet. He’s still wobbly, and his chest aches, but he can't stand to stay still any longer. He takes the lead, plunging back into the forest to continue on their trail. 

 

A few hours pass in silence, only interrupted by the captains occasional directions of “start heading south” or “cross that river.” Eventually they make it to the base of the cliffs, and decide to make camp for the night. It’s incredibly easy to start a fire, just a flick of his wrist and a small pile of logs is set alight with an ashy purple flame, much like the colour of his eyes. A little more effort makes a fairly nourishing meal appear, though it’s nothing fancy, just a simple soup of potato and ham. The captain seems impressed with his work, and they settle into silence. But Virgil can as the look on his face, stealing glances and inquisitive peeks at him. Finally, he can take it no longer. 

 

“What!?” He snaps, shoving his empty bowl aside. It disappears as soon as it hits the forest floor. 

 

The captain looks like a guilty child, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I was just wondering if you were alright, that’s all.” 

 

“I’m perfectly fine,  _ Princey ,”  _ Virgil sneers our the mocking nickname he had coined just a day ago. “Is it any of your business how I feel?” 

 

“I’m still taking that as a compliment!” The captain exclaims, than softens. “I was just concerned, that’s all. Even with your, er,  _ prickly  _ exterior I’d be quite the shoddy traveling partner if I simply let you suffer in silence.” 

 

Virgil rolls his eyes. “I’m  _ fine.  _ No need to worry that pretty little head of yours about me.” 

 

“I’m just saying, I’ve had experience with things like that!” The captain continues. “Many of the men newer to the sea would find themselves overwhelmed by certain things. There’s no shame in admitting it!” 

 

“Just. Drop it.” Virgil seethes, crossing his arms defensively. They grow quiet for a few minutes, the lavender fire crackling, still glowing bright and warm. 

 

“When I was just a boy, I got a job as a deckhand,” The captain begins, from nowhere. “My first day on a ship I was so terrified I heaved over the side and nearly shook myself out of my boots. I was still so new to the grown world, young and fresh, inexperienced. It was incredibly daunting.” 

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Virgil asked, looking at the captain. His gaze was elsewhere, staring deep into the fire, a half smile playing at his lips. 

 

“Because I’m not ashamed of the fear I felt.” He said. “I still get absolutely terrified at the prospects of some things. But I’ve learned not to let it consume me. Fear is powerful, and sometimes we fall prey to it, but sometimes just admitting you’re scared is enough to drive it back to where it came from.” 

 

“This is different, though.” Virgil objects, quietly. “I have no control over it. It’s irrational, stupid and I don't know  _ why  _ it happens. I know it’s okay, I know it’s all in my head but that doesn't stop it.” 

 

“Sometimes the dragon isn't one that can be slain rightaway. Sometimes you just need to let the fire burn until the storm passes. Soon enough what seemed like a mighty foe will burn itself out, and become dust under your feet.” 

 

“Thanks, princey.” Virgil whispers. 

 

“You know you can just call me roman, right? I was never one for nicknames.” The captain says. Virgil shakes his head and chuckles. 

 

“Nope, I think I like princey better.” He quips, and the captain fake scowls, before an inquisitive look flashed onto his face. 

 

“You know, I never quite caught your name.” He said, looking at Virgil expectantly. 

 

“I didn't throw it.” He replies, a small smirk turning the corners of his mouth. The captain groans. 

 

“You know that’s not what I meant!” He says, throwing up his arms. “never mind, just- what shall I call you?”

 

Virgil turns it over in his mind. Obviously he’s not going to tell him his  _ real  _ name. He’s no fool. Names are powerful to the right people. And back home, people never really called him by his name, just  _ sir,  _ or  _ lord _ , or  _ esteemed one.  _ Stupid titles and such. Finally he decided, something simple a nickname from a kinder time of life . 

 

“Anx,” he said, “you can call me Anx.”

 

“Anx?” The captain asked. Virgil nodded. “Well then, Anx it is. Now, shall we get some sleep? I’ll take first watch.” 

 

“I’m not tired, I’ll take first watch. Besides, I may have healed you, but you must still be exhausted from the fight. Get some rest, I’ll wake you in a few hours.” 

 

The captain waved him off, standing up and stretching out his arms. “No no, I insist. I’m fine, anyways. You go ahead.” 

 

Oh, this was definitely suspicious. Virgil peers at the other man, taking in the drooping eyes and sallow expression, but also the odd quirks of his brow, and the way his focus jumps from point to point. 

 

“You know, I can't kill you.” He sighed after a few seconds. He captain startles, as if Virgil knew just what he was thinking. “You want first watch so I’ll fall asleep first, then you can make sure I don't stab you in the back. What were you planning to do when you needed to sleep, huh? Leave us unguarded?” 

 

“No, that’s not- I don't mean to imply that you-“ The captain stuttered. Virgil rolled his eyes at his pathetic attempts at defending himself. “Wait, what do you mean you can't kill me?” 

 

“Seriously? Do you know nothing of magic oaths?” Virgil asked. “I swore on my essence I wouldn't kill you, so now I can’t. Like, I physically can’t.” He explained, rather annoyed. “So you can rest easy, knowing you won't wake up with my sword in your gut. Now, go to bed before I cast a sleeping spell on you.” 

 

The captain grumbled a quiet “This is absurd!” Under his breath, before finally settling himself under a tree. His eyes dipped closed almost immediately, long lashes fluttering gently before his head drooped onto his shoulder and his breathing slowed. Finally. Now Virgil could get to work. 

 

His stupid oath keeps him from killing the captain, but not hurting him. A quick rune drawn charcoal black in the night air made sure the captain would stays asleep through the… mild discomfort that his magic could cause. There was something strange about this man, something Virgil couldn’t place. He’d felt it on the ship, when he’d attacked them. Something  _ powerful  _ radiated from him, and Virgil intended to find out what it was. 

 

Carefully, Virgil placed a finger against the captains forehead. Where their skin met a dull, ashy glow began to seep like ink across the captains forehead. His eyes fluttered in his sleep just slightly, but Virgil knew his spell would hold. The captain would simply wake up with a bad headache in the morning, and they’d be on their merry way. Virgil pressed the pad of his finger down firmly on the other man’s forehead, and braced himself. 

 

His eyes flew open, but he couldn't see a thing. For just a second he was blind, lost in a white haze. But just as quickly as his sight had fled, it returned. He was no longer kneeling by the captain in the full glow of the fire. Now, he stood surrounded by the memories of the captain. 

 

They all floated in an eternal stretch of black, on and on as far as they eye could see. Closest to Virgil was the most recent memories; their little spat just minutes before, Virgil’s embarrassing moment of weakness, the fight from earlier. Than even farther back, memories of the burning town, of the fight between their two crews, of the captain standing on a high crows nest. Virgil began to skim the memories, looking for anything suspicious. But there was nothing, nothing that told him of any secret powers or new, volatile magic. Just years and years of the ocean, of ships and docks and cities and battles, some won and some lost. There was funerals at sea, datrng escapes from captivity, moments of complete despair. But  _ nothing  _ magical. This man was just ordinary, regular, not a drop of enchantment in his blood. 

 

Finally Virgil came to the childhood memories. At first, it was nothing special, just a young man’s adventure through adolescents. But than, right where the captain would be about three, the memories just… stopped. Like his life had began with him playing on a shore, making castles of sand and shells. There should be more, blurry memories of first steps and first words, of toys rattled in front of faces and lullabies sung quietly. But there was just nothing. 

 

Virgil delved deeper where he memories ended, pushing against the invisible barrier that marked the starting point of the captains life. There  _ had  _ be more, and maybe that more would be just what he’s looking for. As he pushed against the darkness that signaled the abrupt beginning of memories, he felt it bend, just slightly, giving way to his attempt. A crack formed, infinitesimal, but just enough for him to see a sliver of memory. He grasped onto it, but just as he was able to make it out-

 

Eyes flew open as Virgil’s back slammed into a tree. His lungs screamed, his chest ached, and his head felt as if it was splitting open from the inside. All he could manage were shallow pants, gasping for breathe through the pain. His vision was fading fast, and as darkness overtook him he swore he felt a hand caress his cheek. 

 

The next morning he wakes up with aching ribs, an angry captain, and no recollection of the moments after the captain had fallen asleep.

 

_____

 

Roman is displeased, to say the least. The prisoner- Anx, he reminds himself, fell asleep on watch, leaving than vulnerable the entire night. And for some reason, he woke up with an absolutely  _ killer  _ headache, which has no part in improving his sour mood. 

 

Sunlight hasn’t even began to crest the horizon, and the air is still still and empty of birdsong. If Roman has been forging their path correctly, he and Anx should arrive at the bottom of the cliff where Patton and Logan should have landed. The thought of Patton being so rare and magical was still very strange to Roman; Patton was talented, and kind, and  _ incredibly  _ smart, but him being a powerful descendant of an almost-god was just… strange. A strange thought.

 

“Well,” Roman says, surveying the river that ran from the imposing cliff, “this is where they would have been. What now?”

 

The river is large, it’s surface an angry maelstrom of madly churning water. There’s a large pool at the base of the cliffs, a basin where the waterfall has worn away over the years, until the ground bent under its fury. There’s a large tree, roots upturned, half submerged in the angry waters. In it's branches, there’s a flutter of color that draws romans eye, and when he focuses- yes, it the familiar blue of logan's tie, the one he wore without fail everyday.

 

“Hey, uh,” Anx says from behind him, “is this… the tall ones?” In his hands he holds a shattered pair of wire frames, bent into a shape quite unlike glasses. 

 

Roman reached out to take the ruined glasses from Anx’s hand, holding them gently before tucking them into his pocket. “Yes, which means they were definitely here. But which direction would they have gone…” 

 

“Look,” Anx said, pointing over the tall tree tops. In the distance, a small plume of smoke could be seen wafting into the sky. “That could be a campfire, or even smoke from a chimney. They probably went that way.”

 

Roman nodded. “Good eye. That looks to be only a few miles, if we make a good pace than it shouldn't take more than an hour or so to get there.”

 

Together the two of them trekked through the trees towards the plume of smoke. Roman was correct; within an hour they had arrived at the source of the smoke, and found it to be a pleasant looking cottage nestled within a clearing and surrounded by a small river. 

 

“This must be it,” Roman announced, surveying the quaint little house. “Hopefully Patton and Logan will have found their way here. If not, perhaps we can get some help here.” 

 

With Anx standing behind him, Roman knocks, loud and firm, against the heavy wooden door. Within seconds it opens, revealing a small person who takes one look at him and gasps, stepping backwards in shock. From somewhere inside, a loud clatter can be heard, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. Before he can speak, the person in front of him takes a shuddering breath, gripping the doorframe as if it was their last hope. 

 

“I- h-how are you here?” They ask, their voice thin and on the verge of breaking. “Thomas, I thought- I thought you were dead?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the plot thickens! As always, thank you so much to all who commented in the past, I love seeing your thoughts!! See you next chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Pls comment below about things you loved or hated!


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